


The God can never

by orphan_account



Series: House and Cameron moments [3]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: Episode Related, F/M, Missing Scene, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:23:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7256005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When both Cuddy and his team are against his diagnosis and his best friend is too much in love to spend time with him, House knows where to find support.<br/>"Don't Ever Change" episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The God can never

**Author's Note:**

> The title is an anagram of "Don't Ever Change". It is incomplete, but I like it this way. Because nothing is ever complete about House. There's always more to him.
> 
> The first part is set between the scenes of House in Amber's apartment and House meeting Taub and Kutner at the elevator.
> 
> The second part is set the night after the day they test Roz for the heart problems.
> 
> The third part is set at the end of the episode.

Cameron is having a bad day in the ER. Everything seems to be slipping away, like sand through her hands. All the morning she's busy with just reacting to emerging issues to keep things in order. So when she sees House in the hallway during her short break she's not happy.  
He notices she has spotted him, and takes that as a cue to approach her desk.  
"Hey," he says.  
"Go away, House," she replies wearily. "I'm having enough on my plate here without you. Seems today is the perfect day for car accidents, otherwise I don't know why they'd be so numerous."  
"You don't like it here? _You_ chose this life," he puts stress on 'you'.  
"What do you want?"  
House half-sits on her desk facing her. "A little consult."  
Cameron smiles in disbelief. "Don't you have a team for that?" She's having troubles with admitting to herself that she likes this small chat with him to break away from her work.  
"My team are idiots, don't you know that?" House looks away for a moment and when his watchful gaze returns to her again she is stricken with its intensity. Is he missing her being a part of his team?  
"Bloody urine, incontinence, low sodium, and altered mental status." He challenges her.  
"Could be autoimmune," she lets out carelessly. "Has anyone suggested that?"  
He shakes his head in a negative response, and she continues "Maybe that's because you like to say that whoever suggests autoimmune is fired?"  
"Maybe that's because it's dumb?" House suddenly is annoyed. "You haven't changed, really. You're just basing your diagnosis on your specialty again. The question is, if you like it so much, what are you doing here rotting in the ER? " He turns and heads away.  
"You don't have anything to do here either!" Her words pursue him. Cameron hates to sound so defensive, but she can't hide her frustration. Why does he always have to bring her down?

* * *

She's still angry with him later, when she's at home. She knows that she is in fact angry with herself and her own insecurity. If she was sure she's doing the right thing to work in the ER, he'd never be able to get to her. She knows also he's always been very insightful of others' weaknesses.  
Her phone rings. It's House.  
Cameron decides not to pick it up. She's no longer obliged to endure his cruelty. Let him do that to someone else. She hits the Reject, and tosses her phone on the table. She's not expecting anyone to call her. Chase is working the night shift, and everyone else can just bug off.  
When the phone rings again, she doesn't even bother to reject the call. Let it ring if he wants it to. But she has to know better, of course. House wouldn't be House, she thinks, as she hears the knock on her front door. She sighs and goes to open it.  
House is leaning on the door frame silently. His jacket is unzipped and his whole appearance is disheveled.  
"What do you want, House?" Cameron asks aggressively. He'd better have reason to disturb her this late.  
"It's not porphyria. She has developed respiratory arrest." He waits for her answer again.  
She is not falling for that. "Why are you here?" She is blocking his way inside.  
"Because I need someone who doesn't believe in God and believes me."  
"I'm not going to help with your patient," she states firmly, "it's none of my business."  
"Maybe you were right about the autoimmune. I'm thinking lupus," he ignores her denial to cooperate, "my team is against it. They tested the heart, but I wasn't there."  
"You don't trust your team?"  
"I just need to recheck."  
She notices a little smile on his lips. Damn he is handsome when he's smiling.  
"What?" Cameron asks.  
"Come on, admit that you want to know what's wrong with the patient."  
"I'm not you, House. I'm not driven by the need to prove my theory." She folds her hands on her chest.  
"Then what are you driven by?" He slightly cocks his head to the side.  
"I want to help people."  
"Pathetic, but still, we can do that, too."  
"Come on," he repeats, inviting her with a gesture, "the night ride on the bike is included."  
No way she's sitting on his bike again. The last time she almost said goodbye to her life several times he drove through the red light.  
"I have conditions. A, we're going in my car. B, I'm driving."  
He nods. "Okay. You're bossy. I like it," his gaze is roaming all over her and Cameron hopes she's not blushing.  
She hurries inside to dress, and is back in a few minutes wearing jeans, knickers and a hoodie, car keys in hand.  
At first they drive in silence. House occupies himself with studying the stuff she has in her car. He finds an opened package of lollipops in a glove compartment , and takes one into his mouth. Strawberry and mint, sweet and fresh. Nice. Just like her.  
"You drive like a girl," he comments, finally breaking the silence.  
Cameron isn't sure if he means it to be a compliment or an insult.  
"A very subtle observation, Dr House," she replies mockingly, still looking at the road, "in case you haven't noticed, I _am_ a girl."  
"Seriously?" He fakes surprise. "You look like a fourteen year old boy."  
"Not when I'm naked I don't," Cameron chuckles. "If you don't believe me, ask Dr Chase."  
This effectively makes House shut up, although he mutters under his breath something about Chase not being able to tell the difference.  
Cameron feels victorious and lets herself bathe in it for a moment. Which is when she forgets about the left turning she has to take and is forced to change several lanes at once not to miss it.  
"If I knew you'd be doing things like that, I'd put my helmet on," House frowns.  
"Shut up," Cameron answers in irritation, "you distracted me."  
House chuckles.  
When the car is parked, Cameron takes the way to the hospital's entrance. But House grabs her hand, tugging her away.  
"Not this way," he says in a loud whisper, "we're going that way." He points to the fire escape ladder.  
Cameron stares at him in bewilderment. "Are you planning on climbing up the building?"  
He nods enthusiastically.  
She can't believe it. "You're crazy, House!"  
"Why can't we come in the usual way?" she asks.  
"I don't want to be seen. The patient's husband is surprisingly enough not very fond of me. That's also why I need you."  
"You can't even walk properly, and you are going to climb the ladder?"  
"Now that is just mean, pointing at my disability." House grows impatient. "I can do it. Are you coming?"  
She won't leave him alone now. "I am."  
"Okay. Help me strap the cane to my backpack, and let's go. You go first. I'll need your help up there to get on the roof."  
And so they start their journey up, hoping that in the darkness that surrounds them they won't be seen.  
Everything is going pretty well when House feels his cane dropping down. "Damn it, Cameron! I told you to check that strap! " He cries.  
"Can't hear you!" She cries in reply.  
Apart from that incident, they land safely on the roof. Cameron is only a bit tired and a lot more surprised that he's actually done it. Maybe he's much stronger than she thought. If not for his leg, he could be described as athletic, she thinks suddenly. At this moment she just can't think of him as a disabled man.  
But of course that open air exercise comes at a great price for him, and it starts to show as they begin their descend. House chooses to use the staircase instead of the elevator, for the reasons of secrecy. They enter and the dark space fills with light as they activate the motion sensors.  
House is clutching at the railing, as he doesn't have his cane. He is starting to move slower, and Cameron has to wait for him to catch up.  
She regrets having agreed for this plan of his. He's obviously in pain after the climbing. She hears him breathing hard above and behind her.  
"I told you it was crazy," she reproaches him when he finally overtakes her.  
"I told you to check that strap," House retorts.  
Cameron notices his face is twisted with pain, but she shrugs and resumes her descent.  
In a few moments she has to wait for him again.  
This time he catches up with her even slower though the distance to cover is smaller.  
What happens next is seen by her as if in slow motion.  
His bad legs gets out of his control and he is falling a few steps but his hands on the railing are strong enough to stop the chute.  
Cameron tries to catch him, and succeeds.  
House ends up hanging on the railing and leaning against the wall, Cameron trapped between his arms, his body and the wall, her arms supporting him by his waist.  
They both take some time to realize what has happened, and to stabilize their stance, and the lack of motion makes the lights go out.  
"Shit," Cameron says.  
House is taking ragged breathes.  
"You have to help me," he puts all his effort into it.  
"I can't carry you!" she panics, "What can I do?"  
He would roll his eyes if he weren't in such pain. "Don't be a moron. Get me my Vicodin. It's in the one of the pockets." He speaks through the gritted teeth.  
She starts searching, leaving only one of her arms around his waist. It's not an easy task, as she can't see a thing. First she tries the pockets of his leather motorcycle jacket, snaking her hand between their bodies and groping for the bottle of pills. But it's not there. She fears it could have fallen down as well as his cane, but doesn't dare to say it out loud.  
She then turns her attention to the pockets of his pants, starting with the back ones. When they are also found to be empty, she slips her hand into his front pocket. It's then when she finally finds the bottle by groping, the sense of relief washing over her.  
"Well unless you have a Vicodin-bottle-shaped penis, I've got it," Cameron jokes, too happy she's found it to stop herself from the remark.  
She rounds his waist with arms again, using both her hands behind his back to unscrew the cap and shake out three pills into her palm. She then leaves one of her hands there clutching the bottle, her arm still supporting his weight, while her other palm lands backside on her shoulder giving him the access to take the pills.  
House angles his head and takes them one by one from her palm with his lips, his hands still occupied with the railing. He swallows the pills one after another, his throat too dry to gulp them all at once. Each time he is brushing her hand with his lips. Sometimes he has to do it several times before his attempt to take the pill is successful for it's still dark around them and he misses it.  
When he's done, he stills, both of them knowing it's going to be about twenty minutes before the drug kicks in.  
Cameron's palm is wet as a result of hand feeding House as she returns it to rest on his waist. He's heavy but she holds him strong, her legs put slightly apart to gain a more stable stance. While they are waiting for the Vicodin to do its job, she can't stop thinking that just a few moments ago she was shamelessly feeling him up, roaming her hand over his chest and then over his backside, and then so very close to his... She is thankful for the darkness as her face is burning. She reproaches herself for feeling lust when he is aching, but she can't stop it as he leans against her, putting his weight on her, his breathing hot on her neck. She just can't forget the feeling of his lips on her palm.  
She knows she'll never get over him. Because he's so exciting, and unpredictable, and so not boring.  
House is waiting patiently for the pain to subside. After all these years he's so familiar with the process that he recognizes and predicts every stage of it.  
The equivocality of their position is not lost on him. And he takes his time well aware of the fact she has no way of knowing whether his pain is numbed yet.  
He's thinking that strangely enough it's not awkward at all. That he could get used to the feeling of her small and efficient hands on him. And the way she supports him. That, he could also get used to. Suddenly the thought of losing Wilson to Amber is not as frightening as before. He could also get used to the taste of her skin under his lips. And the smell of her hair - something he can't place exactly, something fruity and sweet and girly.  
Only he would not get used to it. He would not get a chance to. Because she's with Chase.  
It's not that he's incapable of fighting for the woman he wants. On the contrary, he's quite the competitor, the conqueror. He fought for Stacy, and he would fight for Cuddy, that is, if there was anyone to fight with. But it's because he knows for sure that the woman loves him.  
And with Cameron he's not so sure. She may not love Chase (he's convinced she doesn't) but she's definitely moved on. And he likes it. She is more relaxed around him, making him more relaxed around her. He likes their relationship as it is, and he would not jeopardize it. Because _ça ne vaut pas la peine_ , he thinks, to throw away everything he has with her just to add another failed romance to his collection. He has no doubts it will fail, and when it does, she will never see him again. He's never been good on middle ground; if he breaks up with someone, he breaks it to pieces. And he needs her to be there for him. He needs her right now, and somehow, he has a feeling he may need her in the future.  
So when he finally feels able to stand on his own he is only able to breath out "Thank you."  
House hopes she will understand everything he wants to say. He knows at the same time, that she won't.  
The lights come up again and they walk downstairs in quiet. Well, maybe it isa bit awkward after all.  
When they reach the floor they need, House opens his backpack to hand her the syringe and the nurse's uniform.  
"Go to the patient, and give her epinephrine," House explains as she's changing her clothes. She's definitely moved on, he sighs internally, she's is no longer uncomfortable to change in front of him. He never thought he'd be missing the times when she'd get tense and clenched at his every gaze or touch. He feels the desire to be able to have that effect on her again.  
"Do the EKG to see if there are any problems with her heart. Maybe they just haven't stressed her enough," he continues.  
"Come back with the results." He finishes.  
Cameron hesitates. "You haven't told me we are going to risk a patient's life."  
"It's what we do," he shrugs, "you should have figured as much."  
"We're in the hospital; if she has a problem in her heart, the best place to get a heart attack is here."  
"You've come so far," he adds, "it's stupid to stop now."  
She never can explain to herself why she can't say no to him.

* * *

Next time she sees him is in a few days in a parking lot. He's going home after parting with Wilson. Cameron comes up to him.  
"Solved your case?" She says instead of a greeting.  
House nods.  
"She had a floating kidney. You were wrong. It wasn't lupus. My specialty beats yours."  
She puts her hands on her hips, cocking her head.  
" _I_ never said it was lupus. _You_ were wrong."  
House looks as if through her.  
"You were wrong too."  
He leaves her wondering what exactly he wanted to say as he limps away to his bike.

**Author's Note:**

> Because she was wrong to quit.  
> Because she was wrong to think he could not love her.  
> Because she was wrong to think they could have a successful relationship.  
> Because she was wrong to start a relationship with Chase.  
> Because she was wrong to let him drag her into his life again and again.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
